


Foiled Again

by orphan_account



Category: youtube - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:57:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8127727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Calfreezy's not the only one who knows how to get revenge.





	

“What have you done?” You eyed the camera in suspicion as Cal followed you into the flat. He remained silent as you dropped your bag in the hallway, a smirk playing on his lips. The living room, kitchen, and bathroom showed no signs of sabotage, the only room left: the bedroom.

Stopping before the door, you turned to face him. “Callum,” you squinted suspiciously, eyes trained on his. “If you have done _anything_ to mess with my room, you’d better tell me now.” He merely shrugged in reply. Accepting his silence as confirmation of his tricks you turned the door handle, slowly pushing the door open. “For fuck’s sakes Cal,” you sighed as you examined the room.

Foil. Every item in the room was wrapped in a decorative layer of foil, even down to each individual bobble. Striding over your foil floor, you opened your foil curtains to reveal a surprisingly foil-less window. You took a moment to absorb the early morning sun before turning to face your foil bed. Taking a moment to glare at the camera, you strode straight towards the bed and flopped face first into the foil covers.

“You okay there, Y/N?” Cal chuckled.

“No,” your reply was muffled by the foil pillows that you had shuffled your way up to. “I’m fucking tired, so I’m going to sleep, foil or no foil.” Cal laughed in reply, the camera shaking with each laugh. He waited in the doorway for you to rise and steal his camera in retribution as you usually would, but was instead greeting by your muffled breaths as you slipped into a comfortable sleep. Foil is surprisingly comfy when you’re absolutely knackered.

 

The remnants of takeaway littered the space around your intertwined legs as you and Cal lounged at either side of the sofa. The Great British Bake Off lit played in the background, lighting up the dark room. You concentrated on the pastries displayed on screen, ignoring the already hungry rumble of your stomach and the soft presence of Cal’s legs.

“You still mad?” Cal spoke over Paul Hollywood’s criticisms.

"Paul never understands the importance of taste over presentation,” you tutted, ignoring him.  

“Don’t ignore me,” he prodded you with his foot, sending a wave of takeaway containers onto the floor. You stared at the mess, before turning to look at him.

“My room’s already a foily mess, do you have to do the same to the living room too?”

Cal sighed, reaching over to grab your arm. “Come here.” You didn’t resist, letting him pull you into his arms with ease. Resting against his chest, you breathed deeply. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into your ear, resting his chin on your head. You settled into the curve of his neck, smirking. An apology means a victory.

“Of course I’m not still mad, you idiot,” you said, tongue held between your teeth to control your smile. “I’ve known you for years. D’you really think a little prank’s going to bother me? It’s just fun to watch you squirm.” His arms tightened around your waist, his chest bouncing as he joined the laughter.

“You sneaky little devil,” he jibed, jabbing you in the ribs with his finger.

“Oi,” you prodded him back, before settling back into his arms to finish watching the Bake Off.

 

The TV cast a dull glow on the two of you, the bright colours of the Bake Off finished hours ago. Hours had passed of crappy TV, leaving your eyes half lidded and practically asleep against Cal. Cal’s right arm curled around you lazily, his left lay against your hip. His breathing had slowed, his chest gently rising and lowering against your back. You enjoyed these lazy nights, thriving in the lethargic TV watching. Cal not so much.

His fingers began to tap against your stomach, dancing out their rhythm at a gentle pace. Slowly, he continued the dance, each step travelling lower down your abdomen until it reached the bottom of your top. Carefully, he slipped his fingers just beneath your t-shirt, running them along the strip of skin that he had exposed. His touch was feather-light sending a wave of static down your arms.

“Cal,” you moaned, “I’m trying to watch TV.” Ignoring your complaint, he continued to trace his path, his other hand joining the motions and trailing over your hips. As carefully as you could in the small space, you rolled onto your front, leaving Cal’s hand resting on your behind. “Hello,” you chuckled quietly, your faces now only inches apart.

“Hi,” he breathed back.

“You really don’t understand the meaning of a lazy TV night,” you whispered with a raised eyebrow. His hands continued to dance back and forth, a certain other body part pressing at your hips, wanting to join in.

“I don’t think I care,” he said, pulling you down into a kiss. You laughed into the kiss, as Cal ran his hands up your sides, stopping just beneath your breasts before trailing back down. Finally returning the kiss, you lowered your body onto Cal’s, allowing your fully body weight to rest against him.

As time progressed, his motions became more heated and intimate, his nails clawing into your side as you kissed and nuzzled his neck. Briefly resting your weight onto your forearms, you pulled back and admired the deep red that had diffused across Cal’s cheeks. Diving in for one final kiss, you finally slid your hand down his chest, his eyes lighting up as he guessed the destination. Hand rested atop of his joggers, you paused.

“Why are you stopping?” he panted, face reddening even more in frustration. Removing your hand, you leant down to whisper into his ear.

“I just really felt like foiling your plans.” Laughing, you swung your leg from over Cal, sauntering to your room as soon as your feet hit the floor. You stopped one final time before entering, using the door handle to hold your weight as you spun around to face a flustered Cal. His head and shoulders were visible above the sofa, his chest still heaving and face blushing red.  “Oh, and you might want to check your room.” With one final laugh, you entered your bedroom closing the door behind you, your victorious yell of “foiled again!” ringing through the flat.


End file.
